Story of the Tanks
by Scootaloo23
Summary: Klyshko and his once ragtag crew of rejects are one of World of Tanks greatest fighting crews, and believe that they have seen everything through their extensive campaigns. But nothing ever prepared them to be thrown into the Story of the Blanks, have to rescue ponies or fight psychotic, undead villagers. But, hey, how hard can it be when you have a tank? Tank in Equestria.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! This is my first fanfiction I have ever posted. The tank in question is from World of Tanks, and so are the characters, and the initial chapter takes place in the game itself, so if you haven't played it, it won't make much sense. For those of you who want to read this anyways, here is a simple rundown: There are tanks, you battle on random maps in randomly selected teams of 15, whoever captures the enemies base or kills the other team first wins. All tanks are historically accurate, but the teams themselves are not based on alliances or nations. And there are 10 Tiers, with each progressive Tier containing more powerful vehicles than the previous Tier. **

**Now that that's cleared up, about the fic. It came about in a night of playing lots of WoT in my T-28 Russian medium, and also reading and playing a lot of Story of the Blanks stuff. So, as a response, I came up with this. So, if you want to see those scary ponies get what's coming to them whilst all the ponies that would have otherwise been doomed be saved, this fic is for you!**

**And, now with a new and improved Chapter 1! I went back, added a scene to strengthen the character development of the crew, and cleaned it up so it isn't as much of an eyesore. Hope this makes it more fun to read!**

It was about 17:43 hours as Leytenant Zakhar Klyshko pulled up to the rustic old bar his crew were in. He parked his rusty old GAZ M1 car out front, the door making a rattling sound that confirme somewhere, a few pieces had fallen into the inside of the door. _Just great, _he thought to himself, _We can repair our fighting vehicles in record time, but our cars are still shit and falling apart. _

He was a 32 year old Russian, from the region of Saratov. He had light sandy brown hair and dark auburn eyes. His complexion was fair, and he had a average build, standing at 5' 9". He had a quick, business-like gait as he entered the establishment. He made a quick scan of the place.

It had no real flavor to it, it looked like it hadn't been cleaned in fifty years, the once bright wood planks now a rotten greyish brown. The tables were the same aged wood, with splinters coming up an necessitating the use of canvas covers so people could eat without having arms full of splinters. The lighting was provided by a few lamps here and there, sometimes supplemented by jury rigged flashlights where the lamps had been broken or stolen.

The bartender looked as run down as the place. He was in his 40s and stood at 5' 4", and was extremely pudgy. Klyshko was unsure if he was too lazy or too drunk to use a razor, because his sideburns and beard looked like the forests of Siberia had taken up residence on his face. Sitting at the bar was Klyshko's Gunner, Yaroslav Polyanskiy. Polyanskiy was 25, and while slightly less fit than Klyshko, stood a full two inches taller than him. He had dark brown hair side swept at the front, and cool, brown eyes that almost looked red from the right direction.

Polyanskiy had been born in Yaroslavl, from which he got his first name. Being right outside of Moscow, he was born into a line of officers and soldiers, and from the beginning was a bit of a slacker. While he still carried 20 pounds of gut with him, he had been far worse off in civilian life, having almost 4 times that weight. The only redeeming thing about him at the time was his infallible eyes, and his intuitive aiming skills. The armor corp made sure most of his training time was spent getting him in good enough shape to fit in the tank hatch, since that seemed to be a bigger issue than his competency on the job.

At a table off in a corner sat the Driver, Pakhom Metelytsa, and the two Radio Operators, Bronislav Kuhta and Veniamin Plotnikov. Metelytsa was 23, with blond hair and turquoise eyes. He was of an above average musculature, since making the controls respond on an often unresponsive vehicle often required as much muscle as it did skill. He was generally cheery, often trying to pull cheesy one liners with his excellent maneuvers. He had been a bus driver before the war, and said, upon learning that his tank would be none other than the T-28, that he wondered if God had a plan for him involving large, boxy, ungainly vehicles.

The two radio operators, despite the fact they held the same occupation, couldn't be more different than night and day. The younger one, Bronislav Kuhta, was a jet black haired, auburn eyed fellow who was quiet and kept to himself. He went to the bars with his comrades, only because they were his brothers in arms. He never touched a drop of Vodka or tobacco in his life, and was 19.

He kept many books and stories with him, ranging from a Russian copy of the Iliad to childrens books and Westerns. He used to wear glasses when the crew first started their career, but he found out quickly they were broken or knocked off too easy. The quick fix was some duct tape and padding on the radio operators compartment, but by now, with their expansive and decorated service, he was able to buy prescription tanker goggles.

He also secretly traded some..."uniquely Russian" goods with the Americans in exchange for their videos and self made stories about a certain childrens show which he dare not mention to the rest of the crew. But the overly friendly, loving universe of pink and bright colors was a nice comfort when your are blown to bits bi-daily.

The other Radio Operator was a gruff, brown haired, blue eyed man of 27, Plotnikov, who was at the time growing a rather furry caterpillar mustache. He was never seen without his vodka, and even kept some in the tank. He would smoke in the tank, but Klyshko strictly forbade smoking in the tank, due to the fact that there was plenty of fuel and live ammunition inside.

Plotnikov was loud, and loved to sing songs, slurring and often completely missing the lyrics. He would recall tales of their battle exploits wherever he went, and often would get multiple battles confused, leading to references to snow drifts in a battle in Himmelsdorf. Klyshko often had to regulate Plotnikovs vodka intake, lest he pass out or start transmitting gibberish, though Plotnikov somehow could find the controls on the radio after enough alcohol to make most people fail to even stand up.

In fact, Plotnikovs search for vodka was what brought the crew here, since they sold some of the cheapest vodka that didn't kill you outright. Everyone else was here to make sure the team drunk didn't hurt himself or spawn any illegitimate offspring. Klyshko tapped Polyanskiy on the shoulder, waiting for the Gunner to turn around before addressing him. Polyanskiy gave a quick salute and looked expectantly at Klyshko. Klyshko spoke up in his usual, neutral, firm tone.

"Good evening Mladshiy Leytenant. I assume everything has gone without any troubles this night." Polyanskiy nodded.

"Other than Plotnikov believing that there are streets on Malinovka, I believe everything is in order."

Klyshko let out a small chuckle at this statement. "Good to know the crew are being themselves. Tell everyone to down their drinks or toss them, we are headed out in ten minutes sharp."

He cleared his throat and began, "We have about 9 minutes till we head out. Pack up and be ready by that time." The crew nodded affirmatively, and save for Plotnikov, began to get ready to leave. Aside from the crew, the bar was pretty much empty. A few, maybe 3 or 4 scattered patrons were also there, but it was extremely quiet as the tankers headed out of the bar, on their way back to the barracks. Klyshkos old GAZ M1, a copy of the Ford Model B, smelled like the Great War, moldy, muddy and dead, and everybody grumbled as they clambered into it.

Klyshko hit the starter, only to hear the low whine of the starter trying to start the engine.

"Shit, I am really not in the mood to push this bastard." he growled as he tried a second time, hearing a few cylinders fire before it failed.

He kicked the starter harder and this time started praying in his head. Whether through divine intervention, luck or his own forcefulness, the car grumbled to life, the old four cylinder sounding almost as if it was being inconvenienced to start up. Kuhta stuck his nose in a translated copy of a Western and zoned out, not saying anything the entire way. The ride to the barracks was about a 4 mile trip. The wind was rather terrible and intermittent, making a rather unreal howling outside the vehicle.

As they pulled up to the barracks, the car ground to a halt and everyone exited, grabbing their bags from the trunk. Zhdanov, the teams loader, was waiting outside the barracks for them. He was a red haired, wiry 20 year old, with a working tan on him. He stepped over to the car and watched as his fellow tankers climbed out.

"Need any help?" he asked as they stepped out.

Polyanskiy pointed to the back seat, with Polyanskiy sitting in it passed out.

"Polyanskiy passed out...again."

Zhdanov nodded and opened the door Plotnikov was next to, pulling the snoozing radio operator out. He then hefted his heavier, drunken comrade Plotnikov in a fireman's carry, the toothpick of a loader lifting him like he was made of air, and tossed him into his bunk before going outside to get his own bags.

He saw Klyshko sitting on the hood of his car, looking pensive. The low lying cover of the barracks meant the wind was significantly stifled here, enough to enjoy the rather inviting outside temperature.

The barracks themselves were as cheap and plain as they came. They looked like metal crates with doors on the front, and many has large splotches of rust and jury rigged lighting, heating and cooling systems on them. Zhdanov tilted his head at his commander. This man never looked pensive over anything except his crew, and his beloved Katenka. With the recent development regarding Kuhta, he began to suspect the latter.

"Sir, it seems to me something has you worried. Is it Starshina Kuhta and his rather unsettled nature he has had?" Klyshko nodded, but not a type of nod that suggested completely agreement.

"He worries me, but I have been looking at the sky, and weather for tonight might not be good. I worry Katenka might not like sleeping whole night alone in these conditions. I think I might go and see her, make sure she knows it is ok."

Zhdanov nodded. "I think you are right. Old girl has been with us through so much, it is only natural that we make sure she is safe in bad weather like this."

Zhdanov held out a small letter to Klyshko.

"I need you to deliver this to post office. You should pass right by it on your way to Katenka."

Klyshko nodded, taking the letter and slipping it in his coat pocket.

"What is it?" Klyshko asked.

"A deed for 150 acre addition to my families farm. Just bought it with my silver savings.", Zhdanov said with a rather proud smile.

Klyshko nodded. "I will get it there."

Zhdanov waved as Klyshko turned towards Katenka's quarters.

"Tell her I sent my blessings!"

Klysko smirked and with that, Zhdanov headed inside to his bunks, and KIyshko headed off to Katenka's quarters, only a short walk away.

When he arrived, he knocked to make sure nobody had snuck into her room before hitting the switch to open the front door. The doors grinded open slowly, revealing his big, beautiful girl to be safe and sound.

"May I enter?" he asked. A few seconds passed before he laughed and strode inside.

"Well, it is shame that you do not use words to speak, but our conversations are fun nonetheless, right?"

He hit the lightswitch, which illuminated all of her lovely, well sculpted features he loved her for. Many had said she was ugly and ungainly, but those people has been spoiled by their featureless, colorless ladies. She was born in Kirov, Leningrad, and had been rejected her whole life as being unfit for any use whatsoever.

But Klyshko had found her, raised her from the depths of scrapyards, and brought her to her full glory she deserved. For this lovely maiden Klyshko was so deeply in love with, was not your typical girl. She has rough steel skin, long, thin tracks, and a bulky but perfectly proportion hull. While many described her as fat and shabby, Klyshko saw her monstrous profile and extra turrets as making her look like some sort of ancient warrior, like the women of the Mongol empire, who were taught in combat as well as the men.

And the Katenka's girth was no result of overbuilding. She was a drafthorse, able to sprint and gallop at incredible speeds, carrying her and her weapons and crew where they needed to be. Klyshko has found her sitting, rusted out and shot to pieces, being auctioned off for scrap, and he was willing to spend every penny the crew had earned in their battles to save the beaten old lady. Now she sat, after numerous modernizations and lots of love and care, proud. Still, Klyshko could sense her distress at the approaching windstorm. Klyshko put a hand on her front armor plate, speaking softly to her.

"I understand this weather makes you worry. I have come to tell you that there is no cause for fear. I have you in this sturdy hangar, made of best concrete and steel money can buy. You will be safe from silly little windstorm."

Klyshko sensed that he has alleviated some of Katenka's fear, and so climbed onto her turret, a mid war experimental upgrade that had to be replicated for use with Katenka. She mounted the long barreled 57mm Zis-4. While in historical usage, it only saw usage in the T-34, there had been proposals to fit the weapon to the T-28, and so it was allowed for them to use the devastating cannon on Katenka. She bore her forest striped camouflage, a dress of brown and greens that helped make her look better to the crew, and look less to the enemy.

The crew had also made other retrofits, such as converting the coaxial machinegun to a 40mm grenade launcher, and fitting the forward turrets with twin 7.7mm MG mounts. Klyshko had also added a 12.7mm MG on the turret for him to use. All in all, they were sure Katenka was the most heavily armed T-28 in the entire game. Klyshko smiled warmly at Katenka patting her on the turret. "I hope you are ready Katenka, tomorrow is battle day." He felt her radiate the same eagerness for the mission that the crew had, and he dismounted her and shut the lights off before heading out her door.

"Sleep well, my love, for tomorrow we will have busy day." he said, letting the doors close as he headed back to the barracks to catch some sleep.

Meanwhile, back at the barracks, the rest of the crew was bedding down. Metelytsa lay on his back, his arm behind his head as he tried to relax himself. He was in the bunk above Kuhta, who had curled up towards the wall and was reading another story.

Zhdanov slept on the top bunk directly across and parallel to Metelytsa and Kuhta's bunk, with Plotnikov sleeping under Zhdanov. Perpendicular and just behind these set of bunks lay Polyanskiy on the upper bunk, and Klyshko would sleep on the lower one when he arrived.

Finding that he could not sleep, Metelytsa rolled over and turned to Zhdanov.

"Danila, you still awake?" he whispered.

"Yeah, I cannot sleep on our off days. No work to wear me down.", came the response.

Metelytsa sighed. "Yes, but, I guess we need it. Klyshko may not talk much, but I think he has reasons."

Zhdanov nodded. "Well, we will be fighting full time tomorrow. 10 hour battle day."

Metelytsa decided that maybe they should change the subject to something not pertaining to their job.

"So, why do you use all your money to buy new farm for family. It is nice I know, but don't you ever think what that money could also buy?"

Zhdanov shrugged. "I never get pleasure from things, comrade. I feel best when I have done work, or helped my comrades. That, is what I want ost, and it cannot be bought."

Polyanskiy chimed in. "How very profound of you. You should write some philosophy crap or something. At least I have top of line Egyptian cotton mattress, and goose down pillow. Metelytsa, you have no room to talk. You just hoard all your income."

Meteytsa smirked and shrugged. "I guess I do. I am hoping one day I find girl who I can spend it with."

Polyanskiy stifled a laugh. "Metelytsa, how romantic! I hope your pickup lines are better than your jokes, or else that ple of silver will be as lonely as you."

Metelytsa waved a hand dismissively at Polyanskiy. "I hope that I can find girl, who likes my jokes. Also, I want her to be weird."

Zhdanov tilted his head slightly at his Metelytsas comment. "Why would you want wierd girl?"

Polyanskiy smirked. "Because that's the only kind that would ever listen to him."

Metelytsa just shook his head. "Polyanskiy, you are correct, but that's not why I want weird girl. You see, I am weird, so for me, normal girl could never really appreciate me." he said with a smile, his mind starting to float into his romantic fantasies.

He dreamed of one day doing standup comedy with his dream girl, and teaching her how to do donuts in tanks. And then he started to wonder if maybe he could make her laugh so hard she would sneeze. He was just starting to imagine the labor jokes he could tell her to keep her spirit up during delivery, but then he slowly drifted back to reality.

He leaned over the side of his bunk and looked down at Kuhta, who was still had his nose in his book.

"Bronislav, you have been talking less than Dani over here, what is problem?"

Kuhta looked up a bit startled at first, then he changed back to a neutral expression and shrugged. "I...kinda... mean I never thought about romance...but if I had to chose...I would like a loner."

Polyanskiy chortled heartily. "A loner and a weirdo, what hopes you two have for love! Well, at least you are setting attainable goals."

Kuhta blushed a little as he thought of some certain "girls" that he would certainly like to meet, and then went back to his reading.

Polyanskiy looked over at Zhdanov. "What about you? You ever think about girls?"

Zhdanov rolled his eyes at Polyanskiy. "Well, a good girl for me, would be one that pulls her weight better than you, Yaroslav. Preferably with less weight to pull."

Now it was Metelytsas turn to laugh at Polyanskiy, who grimaced and grumbled.

"And I thought one joker around here was enough."

Metelysa looked at him with a very cheesy, over the top grin. "What? Have a little fun big guy! I am sure we can find you girl who can cook 10 kilogram steak."

Polyanskiy was now fuming from frustration and embarrassment. He rolled over away from the other two, and pulled his lush, ornate silk blanket over his head.

"I am very tired! Good night!" he growled.

The snickering only ceased when Klyshko returned and bedded down. And so, the crew slept in preparation for the coming day. But nothing they had ever seen or done, could prepare them for this.

For he was right. Tomorrow would be a busy day. More than Klyshko, Katenka, or any of the crew could have ever imagined. As Klyshko jogged back, two glowing eyes shadowed him, not wanting to be seen by him. Had the commander been any more awake, without the feeling of security being on base provides, he would have spotted the eyes in a split second. But since he was calling it a night, he neglected to check his six for the peach sized orbs that watched him carefully. For, unknown to him, he was a prospective answer to a problem over a century in the making. The real answer to whether he, no they, were right for the task would be answered by fire the following morning.

Having had a relatively good nights rest, the crew set about preparing for battle. They quickly got dressed and had some Combat Rations, which, though they tasted somewhat like cardboard and fish, had enough calories to keep them running at peak performance till noon. Once that was done, they headed off to Katenka's hangar, where they found the lady of war ready to rock n' roll.

Klyshko climbed into the commanders hatch on top of the tank, then Zhdanov climbed into the hatch for the gunner right beside the commanders hatch. From there he clambered down into the turret ring, where the shells were kept. He inspected each carefully for signs of sabotage or defects, making sure each one of the seventy shells checked out.

Polyanskiy climbed in right after him, taking his seat alongside the main cannon. He checked that the sights were calibrated, and that the glass was in good order. Since the original sights the Soviets had made were rather crude and offered poor vision, he had been prudent to procure a replacement, which offered clearer lens that he could aim through better.

The same went for the periscopes that were used by Klyshko when they had to button up, who was also inspecting his equipment. He made sure there were no jams in the traverse range of the periscopes, and that they were calibrated to combat distances.

Metelytsa climbed into the drivers hatch, situated between the two forward turrets. The seat was small, cramped, and, unless he was to remove his seat, offered no access to the rest of the vehicle. Kuhta and Plotnikov saddled up in the forward Machine Gun turrets, each with a radio inside. The radios had been procured from a pair of destroyed KV-2s the found ditched post battle in the mires of Live Oaks. Kuhta had tweaked his to get a little extra range out of it, and it didn't fail as much. He hit the 'On' switch on his and it crackled to life, tuned into the same radio station he always set it to post battle, which meant nobody had messed with it.

With everyone in position, Klyshko hopped out of Katenka and threw the "Queue" switch, which then gave him fifteen second to get back to the tank before they were transported to the strange dimension known only as , "The Queue". Klyshko jumped back in Katenka, and waited for the timer to start. By the time he was back in the tank it was at 11 seconds.

10.

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2.

1.

Entering Queue. The vehicle was suddenly cast into a realm where there was only space, which somehow was still breathable. It wasn't black, there was just simply no light to begin with. They didn't hover, nor sit on the ground, they were just simply there. Standing still.

And in a flash of light the blank nothingness was replaced by a small, ruined industrial district, with 14 other tanks in a small park right beside them. The place they were in was a small green park with a lake in the center and a ruined residential area behind it. About 500 meters south of where they were, in the North East corner of the area, a railroad line atop a small, artificial hill way cut the battlefield in two, separating their teams park from the ruined industrial district of the enemy.

Their side was littered with former refinery and storage machines, and apartments for those who once attended them. A trolley line under a railroad bridge running north to south offered a ground level passage between the two sides. A small train yard offered a narrow if not a bit risky route to the enemies Eastern flank, if one could brave the fire from the hill overlooking the trainyard that was a favorite spot for tank destroyers. By now, the crew had fought at this place enough to have formulated a plan on how this works.

Since they were in a Tier IV fight, they would be counted on to help pull some major weight for the team. Usually if the the enemy didn't try pushing the Train Yard, they could pick off the TD's guarding it with a little support. Once that was done they would have a clear route to wreaking havoc on the East flank, and once that was down, they could either move to the center for even more carnage, or could just head to the enemies base, forcing their defensive line to fall apart.

The countdown timer started and a big, "Battle starts in 00:30" appeared hovering overhead. As the seconds ticked away, everyone was eager, but not in a eager rookie kind of way either. It was more of the excitement of being able to do a job you love and is exciting, with your closest friends right there with you. If you weren't excited, you could become scared, and that was a worse enemy than any they might face on the battlefield.

An enemy tank you can see, it has thin spots in the armor, it too is manned by men who make mistakes, but fear is not like that. Fear cannot be shot, has no chinks in it's armor and doesn't make mistakes. The only defense is ridding yourself of it and not acquiring it. The crew had learned that long ago after a humiliating death by drowning after they panicked when cornered.

Had they kept their cool they might have found a way out, or died with dignity. The panic and disaster that followed was a result of poor communication and a lack of understanding of real combat. The only one not at fault was Katenka, who performed to the best of her abilities but was let down by her men.

After that everyone had worked day in and day out to make sure they were fearless, fighting men who could back up their tank as well as she backed them up. And now they stood, ready to venture into battle as one entity whose sole existence was dedicated to winning the battle.

The countdown timer hit 00:00 and Metelytsa fired the steel warrior up, her 500 horsepower diesel coming to life as Klyshko spoke into his comm headset.

"Let's go!"

And with that Metelytsa put her into drive and Katenka lurched forward. He immediately set her towards the small train yard they had learned to flank so often. Kuhta radioed to the other vehicles where they were headed, and requested support. A Valentine AT tank destroyer, a Panzer III Aus. A and an M3 Stuart followed them as they headed to the railroad tracks, the tank climbing onto the concrete platform between the two tracks in the area.

About 150 meters from the hill, Klyshko sensed something was up. "Full stop!" he shouted into his comm. As Katenka slammed to a halt, a rather large explosion hit right in front of them. It was from a 105 howitzer. They had learned to dread the sound of them, which was very distinctive in firing and in impact.

Klyshko caught the muzzle flash of the offending vehicle, which he pegged as a T82 tank destroyer. Wasting no time in the 12 seconds they had, Polyanskiy quickly trained his gun on the T82, destroying it with three shots in rapid succession, with Zhdanov feeding the gun its shells in one fluid, unending motion.

As they reached the end of the train yard, the tank was rocked by a shot from an AMX 40 light tank. Polyanskiy swung the turret around, popping one shell into the enemy tanks turret before backing behind the control house of the railyard. The AMX was between them and the Locomotive at the end of the train in the yard. Kutha grabbed his radio and shouted into it.

"We are stuck behind the building, can anyone break this guy off of us?"

The response came as the Valentine AT swung the corner on the opposite side of the locomotive, the 3 inch howitzer booming, sending the high explosive round straight into the side of the Iron Duck, destroying it.

"Ello, ol boys, you called?" came crackling over the radio.

"Thanks for the help, lets go to work!" Kuhta replied.

Metelytsa spoke up into his comm set.

"I guess he forgot to...duck."

The entire crew groaned, and apparently the radio was still transmitting when he said it, because the other tanks called back groaning.

"That was bad dude." came from the M3.

"Bloody awful.", the Valentine AT concurred.

The M3 Stuart and the Panzer III A broke off to go wreak some havoc behind the lines, while Katenka and the Val. AT setup to tear apart their East side, first picking off a SU-85B, then taking out a Pz II C.

At this point the two light tanks from earlier had done their job, killing both of the enemies SPGs and a Cruiser Mark II light tank. However, the centerline of their teams defensive line had sustained rather heavy losses, with a sole T40 being the only thing standing between 5 enemy tanks and their side of the map.

"Get us over there!" Klyshko barked.

Metelytsa threw the steel warrior into the top forward gear, bringing her to full speed in rapid succession. Plotnikov had already relayed the T40's contact reports to to whom it concerned, and upon reaching a good firing arc on the trolley underpass, Polyanskiy sighted in the first target, a Pz. B2.

The first two shots sliced into the hull, the third bounced off the angled turret. This shot made the steel duck turn to look at them, missing it's first retaliatory shot as Zhdanov threw another shell into the gun, Polyanskiy hearing the breach closing as his cue to put a shell into the tanks engine, igniting a fire which detonated the tanks ammo, sending it up in a massive fireball.

They felt the shake of a near HE shot, and right then Klyshko realized they needed to move. Metelysta responded smartly, wiggling the hull as he lurched forward to throw off the incoming shots as Katenka gained momentum, barreling right into the four enemy vehicles remaining. They found themselves slamming right into a Renault UE-57, the tiny Tank being crushed under the impact of the bus sized Russian tank.

"Looks like he went from french bred, to flatbread!" Metelytsa quipped, earning another chorus of chagrined groans.

An A-20 swung in from the right, trying to circle the massive beast to death. Polyanskiy had learned how to keep his aim while tracking moving targets, and with a little help from Metelytsa and his prowess at keeping the vehicle steady while improving turn rate, the crew was able to stop the speedster dead in it's tracks with four shots.

Klyshko then spotted the enemy's Panzer III A gripping the front of a friendly M3 Stuart, about 100 yards in front of them. The Stuart was between the T-28 and the III A, leaving only about a 2 foot space of the enemy's armor exposed to a flat angle shot from Polyanskiy's gunsight. He took his time, letting the vehicle steady out and the gun stabilize. Both tanks were shot full of holes, either one could be destroyed with a single hit at this point. To save their ally, they would need to make the shot precisely and swiftly.

Polyanskiy took a slow breath, paused for a split second, and pulled the trigger, sending the 57mm payload straight into the Panzer's front armor, tearing the tank apart and ceasing any danger it once posed.

"Incoming message from the Stuart," Kuhta spoke into his comm set, "They say thank you and congratulate us on our marksmanship!"

Metelytsa grinned, glad they were able to help their fellow tankers out. Klyshko simply nodded, and asked Plotnikov to hand the mini map up to him. The minimap was a piece of unexplained, and never questioned, technology that always displayed relayed radio contacts and would always display a map of the battle zone that infallibly was accurate, even if they had never seen the battlefield before. It was a 10 inch by 10 inch square that felt like a steel plate, but was transparent until it had a map on it. It divided the map into a letter by number based grid, which Kuhta had heard was derived from an American board game.

On it, they saw the last few enemy tanks being routed, a sign that the battle would be ending soon and they would return to their garage, to prepare for the next battle. As the last enemy tank was destroyed, everything froze as they entered what was known as the "Return Queue", a half second delay zone that was identical to the "Queue", but revived the dead and fixed your tank before you reached the garage. As they exited the "Return Queue", they immediately noticed something was wrong.

Instead of Katenka being back in her cozy hangar, she and her crew were in some sort of dark, almost cartoony looking forest. They were in a clearing about 150 meters across. On the South side was a stream running east to west, meandering in a S pattern. 2 kilometers due West of their position was some small collection of buildings, and on the North West side was some rocky, tree packed hills.

The entire east side was almost enveloped in less dense but very consistent foresting, with a few clearings here and there. The whole thing was about 10 kilometers both ways. As they tried to gain their bearings, they failed to notice a small, grey pony with a orange and yellow mane, clinging to the underside of Katenka. As soon a she realized they were back 'home', she let herself hit the ground, crawling out from under the iron maiden and setting to work with the next stage of the plan.

Bringing them to the village.

**Ok, so my ending wasn't the best, or the longest. Honestly, it was the worst part in my opinion, but hey, all the alternatives I thought of were even worse and more awkward. So, what do you think? Please, even if you absolutely hate this and think I should take it down, then say so. As long as the criticism is accurate and contains relevant analysis and facts, I will take whatever you have to throw at me.**

**R&R, as the whereaboos say!**


	2. Chapter 2

It was just past noon in Ponyville. The town was as cheery and sunny as it always was, with only a few long, thin wisp like clouds breaking the skies clear blue. The town was happy and, in some ways, ignorant. Half the ponies had never even seen a weapon fired, and probably less than a houseful had seen shots fired in anger. It was a peaceful place, one where you could trot down a dark alley in the middle of the night and not have to check your six every five seconds.

As usual, the towns local intrepid blank flanks were up to their same old antics. Currently they were violently hitting a tree, trying to make a cat come down. Scootaloo herself had devised this foal proof plan to earn cutie marks in "Cat Stuck in Tree Rescuing", but right now the cat refused to come down, putting a hitch in this otherwise flawless plan.

"Come down stupid furball! We got cutie marks to earn and a schedule to meet!" hollered Scootaloo.

"Aw, C'mon Scootaloo! Maybe it would come down if we asked it nicely?" Applebloom said.

Sweetie Belle nodded in concurrence. "She's right, Scootaloo! We need to be gentle!"

Scootaloo scoffed at the very thought. "Psh! Where did being gentle ever get you in life?"

Applebloom raised her hoof in response. "Well, Fluttershy is loved by them animals because she is gentle. Ah reckon if she was here, she'd have that little critter down in no time."

Scootaloo rolled her eyes, stomping her hoof down. "And Rainbow Dash would hit the tree with a blast of awesome! And the cat would fly out and she would catch it!"

Sweetie Belle sighed, rolling her eyes back at Scootaloo. "Well, to be honest, I think Rainbow Dash would just, _fly_, up and get the cat."

Scootaloo leered at Sweetie Belle, catching on to what she was saying. "Yeah, well, I bet if Rarity was here, she would just bring the cat down using her _magic_."

"Um, guys...ah don't think ya'll are gonna get that cat down by fightin and stuff." Applebloom said.

Scootaloo waved a hoof at her dismissively. "Well, at least I can use my wings for something! I might not be able to fly, but at least I can use em to scooter better than anypony in Ponyville! What do you do with that useless horn!"

Sweetie glared her best daggers at Scootaloo, trying to look as menacing as she could. "You are just jealous because my sister is far more sophisticated and refined than your so called "Big Sister."

At this point, Applebloom realized they both would be opening their best cans of worms, and that she should leave before the real personal mud was flung. She trotted over to two nice looking pines sitting at a park table.

At the table were two opposites who, due to economic stress, were roommates in a humble Ponyville apartment. One had a cream coat, and blue and purple mane, with three candies on her flank. This was Bon bon. Voice actress, gossip monger, colt chaser and confectioner, she was mostly concerned about what other ponies thought about her, and how much they thought about her. Her natural place in life was somewhere as high profile as her vanity, but business had hit a downswing and she had to tighten her budget.

The other mare couldn't be more different. While Bon Bon sat as every normal Equestrian did, this one sat like most homo sapiens would. She had a light mint green coat, with a White and teal mane, and a lyre for a cutie mark. Lyra was a adventurous mare, who was the only anthropologist in all of Ponyville. While she had never heard of any others, she couldn't be sure as she had never stopped to look for other anthrophiles, as she was too busy scrounging up what data she could about the mysterious two legged creatures. She also was, coincidentally, a lyre player.

Lyra sat with a pizza box in her lap, which she had converted into a "laptop", a device she had read about, which allowed humans to communicate across thousands of miles, and play incredible games. Her "background" was a somewhat crudely drawn, overly buff human male, holding her while dressed in gleaming armor. She had drawn it herself, with her hooves. While this greatly limited the quality of her artwork, she didn't care, as it was her pride and joy to be able to use her hooves just as the humans would their, "hands". Bon bon meanwhile, had her nose in a newspaper, which allowed her to ignore Lyra's antro antics, while also finding out what clothing was trending, and which ponies were having affairs.

Lyra happily "typed" away at her laptop, not phased by the fact that she had no internet, no programs, and that it wasn't even a functioning device in any way. Bon bon peered over her newspaper at her. She sighed heavily, in an overly dramatic fashion. The only thing keeping her from staying a million miles away from that embarrassment was that she generally paid for the food, which was money in Bon Bon's pocket as far as she was concerned, and that, despite the fact the insane asylum certainly had search parties out for her, was a decent pony. Bon bon cleared her throat, this time trying to sound like a bored, Canterlot receptionist.

"Lyra, dear, why are you so enthralled by that empty pizza box of yours?"

Lyra grinned in reply at her. "Because I use my imagination!"

"Like how you used your imagination to conjure up 'humans'?" Bon Bon retorted in a deadpan tone.

Lyra looked at her, almost offended. "Look Bon Bon, just cause you have never seen a human doesn't mean they never existed!"

Bon Bon grumbled to herself a little. "I hate to sink your high flying fantasy ship, but, humans. Don't. Exit. It's pure myth!"

Lyra scoffed at Bon Bon, waving a hoof dismissively. "Yeah, that's what they said to Benjamin Franklin before he invented Dinosaurs!"

Bon Bon humphed at Lyra in frustration. "This conversation is over." She said, sticking her nose back into her newspaper.

Lyra pointed at her victoriously, grinning widely. "HA! You and your stuck up pastries can eat my super science!"

Bon Bon groaned, tilting the paper down. "You want me to make those gingerbread men you so adore?"

Lyra snapped a nod.

"Well, I recommend you be nicer to me then, Miss Human." Bon Bon shot her a cocky smirk before going back to her usual, detached demeanor.

Lyra immediately piped down after that. She loved gingerbread men, and if Bon Bon wasn't always supplying her with free gingerbread men, she would go off to find her dream man. But, so was life. Just then, they turned around to the sound of tiny hooves approaching. A small, yellow filly with a red mane was trotting towards them. Lyra couldn't recall her name, but Bon Bon immediately identified her as one of the three fillies, who, for a short time, had managed to outshine her in gossipy nosiness. They both put on their best, most pleasant smiles for the filly as she came over to their table.

"Hi, ahm Applebloom. Mah friends were trying to ear our cutiemarks, but they started fightin all mean like, so I was wonderin if you guys had anything for me to do?"

Lyra shrugged, a la the "Shrugpony" pics, while Bon Bon put her hoof on her chin in thought.

"Well, hi, I'm Lyra, nice to meet ya Applebloom. We were just out at lunch, about to get back to work, so I am afraid we can't help you there."

"Awwwww, but can't ah just do one teeny little thing!"

Lyra looked at her with a "Sorry, can't help ya" look. Bon Bon raised a hoof in an "I got it!" position. She always kept tabs on where everypony was, and she had just remembered a tip that was Applebloom's answer.

"Applebloom deary, I just heard Twilight was headed to everfree to deliver some herbs to that Zebra who lives there. I bet that she would adore some extra assistance carrying those things through that forest."

Applebloom looked at her questioningly. "Are ya'll sure on that. Ah mean everfree forest and all."

Bon Bon chuckled heartily, like it was nothing. "Oh, Applebloom, you have nothing to fear. Why, the run should only take an hour, you will be back long before dark!"

This made Applebloom ease up, and she began to grin confidently. "Where is Twilight right now?" she asked.

"Oh, she should be headed to the road that leads to Everfree right now. If you cut through the town you can catch her there."

Applebloom smiled widely at Bon Bon and Lyra. "Thanks ya'll! Ah bet this will be fun!" she said as she turned and headed to meet Twilight.

Lyra waved after her, like a human would. "Be safe out there!" she called after her.

Bon Bon just shook her head at her roommate's anthro gestures, and skimmed the newspapers to make sure she hadn't missed any articles about escaped mental patients.

Twilight Sparkle had just finished packing her bags as she headed out to Everfree Road, the sorry strip of dirt they used as an excuse for a road that led to Everfree Forest. It was no surprise nopony maintained it. The army that would be needed to keep such roadwork safe far outweighed the benefits it would give to the very infrequent travellers it bore. Twilight grumbled about the weight of her bags. She had wanted to bring Spike along, but Rainbow Dash had warned her they may have some bad weather inbound from Everfree, and decided that Spike should stay and make sure no valuables were lost to any weather related damages. This left her to haul the entire load all by herself. She just hoped she could make it by sunset. Being in Everfree after dark was like failing to attend one of Pinkie's parties. Nothing good ever came of it.

Suddenly, she heard the sound of something climbing one of the fences to a yard that bordered the road. She then saw something crest the fence and crash into the bushes in front of it. She stood at the ready, poised to blast it with a magic bolt should it be hostile. After a few seconds, Applebloom stumbled out of the bush.

Twilight relaxed, but was nonetheless curious as to what the little filly was doing here. She allowed Applebloom a few seconds to regain her composure before asking her.

"Um Applebloom, what are you doing?"

Applebloom looked up at her, a bit embarrassed she caught her being a klutz like that.

"Well, ah was told ya'll were headed to the Everfree forest, and ah just wanted to know if ya needed help or anything?"

Twilight frowned a bit, not wanting to bring along a liability, but also knowing that the extra pace she could pick up by splitting the load would be a great asset. Applebloom was just a filly, but she was very strong for her age.

Twilight began with a skeptical, "I'm not sure..."

Applebloom made her best pleading face at Twilight, like she had when she first met her. "Pleeeeeeeeeeeeee"

Twilight continued, "Bu, if you weresomehow helpful..."

"eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaa a"

"And carried some of these herbs for me..."

"aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaass ssssssssssseeeee"

Twilight sighed. "Promise to keep pace with me? It's a dangerous journey, and if you get lost or move to slowly, it could be the end of both of us."

Applebloom nodded, trying her best to look serious and dedicated. "Ah promise I will keep with ya Twi!"

Twilight grabbed an extra satchel bag and put some of the herbs in it, handing it to Applebloom.

"Now be careful, stick close to me, and don't drop them, ok?"

Applebloom gave her best throw at a salute, causing Twilight to giggle a little.

"Alright then, let's go!" She said, trotting off towards the sylvan abyss.

Applebloom gulped, following her closely, having no idea what she was getting into.

Twilight and Applebloom trotted briskly through Everfree, sticking like glue to the path, an tiny strip of civilization in the otherwise savage, lawless forest. Perhaps the most terrifying thing about the Everfree forest was not the terrors of it that were known, but those that remained unseen.

Applebloom never once saw any monsters on the way to Zecora's house, but the terror the Everfree forest conjured up in her mind was more than enough to make up for it. When they reached Zecora's house, a sigh of relief came from Applebloom. Twilight shook her head at the filly. While she was clearly shaken, she was fairly brave to have come this far. Most fillies her age would have turn tail for home a long while before this point.

Applebloom followed Twilight closely as they arrived at Zecora's doorstep, Twilight knocking at the door.

Zecora stepped out, greeting Twilight with a smile.

"Ah, it is Twilight, and Applebloom too. What do I owe this pleasure to?"

"I brought the herbs you wanted." Twilight explained.

"Kind ponies, I thank you, for delivering what I told you to."

"Glad to help."

"But you do not want to remain for the events that will unfold, hurry back to Ponyville, you must, for darkness this night you cannot trust." Zecora warned, gravely.

Twilight nodded, then unpacked Applebloom's bag and headed back towards Ponyville.

Applebloom was unsure of what Zecora meant by her rhyming mumbo jumbo. She was a nice pony, but at times she perplexed Applebloom. Still, the warning she had spoke sounded awful eerie.

"Twi, what the hay did Zecora mean?"

Twilight shrugged, glancing around nervously. "I don't know exactly. But when Zecora says we should move, we really should move. Now let's get going, I got a bad feeling about this."

Applebloom followed her as she headed out of the forest, whispering, "Me too, Twi, me too."

As the pair trotted back to Ponyville, things seemed to be looking up. Applebloom had kept up as she said she would, and they in fact were ahead of schedule. At this rate, they would be back in Ponyville in time for supper. Applebloom wondered what they would be having for supper this time. Fifty bits said it began with, "Apple".

Just as they came to a choke point in the road, hemmed in one both sides by tall rocks and briar patches, they spotted a huge oak tree felled onto their pathway. Twilight Sparkle was most perplexed by this, as the tree was a good 2 feet in diameter and 50 feet tall, and by looking at the rings, very healthy, in it's prime years. There was no way a tree like this should be falling at all. All arboreal logic aside, Twilight go to fixing the core practical problem, the tree in their path. Concentrating, she heaved the tree upwards, and then flung it into the forest.

She gasped for breath, only to look up to see three more trees just like it blocking the road ahead. She let her jaw drop, gasping in disbelief.

"Aw, spit! Son of a witch! Motherfracker!" She cursed out.

Applebloom looked around, fearful. They were sitting ducks in this place, with all the monsters lurking about. She looked fearfully at Twilight, as if asking if everything was going to be alright. Twilight nodded reassuringly, putting a hoof on the filly's head.

"Don't worry Applebloom. All this means is a half hour delay, we will still make it back before sundown. Now stand back, I am going to need all my strenght to do this."

Applebloom nodded, stepping back and letting Twilight get to work. She sat down, and within a few minutes her fear was starting to fade. And be replaced with curiosity.

Any time a pony enters Everfree forest, the first thing on their minds is fear. Fear of what lurks in the bushes, in the trees. Fear that some unseen monster might jump out and spell an untimely demise. Fear of the darkness, or more precisely, what hid in the any pony who survives long enough will tell you. The fear starts to abate after you get your bearings back, and your mind starts to take assessment of what's going on around you. You start to think, "Well, this place hasn't killed me. I wonder what kind of cool things I can find."

And Applebloom had just reached this point. She was no longer shaking, or twitching her head every which way like a frightened squirrel. She was at a state of equilibrium, not feeling fear, nor bravery. As she waited for Twilight to clear the barrier, she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned back to see a grey pony, with a light orange and yellow mane, dart into a break in the briar patch, 250 paces behind their position. Applebloom looked to Twilight, who was too busy to notice anything going on, then back to the bushes where the mysterious pony disappeared.

Now, any pony with common sense would have said, "Buck it, it's not worth it!", but Applebloom was curious, and an unwilling blank flank, two things bound to deprive any common sense from a pony. She headed off in pursuit of the grey pony, chasing her through a maze of bushes and tree lined corridors, finally reaching her in a clearing with a hole in the trees, which had light shining through it. The pony was standing still and gazing at her from an angle, allowing Applebloom to note two key features.

One was her glowing eyes of yellow, which shone like a cats. They didn't have any pupils or irises, they were a pure, solid, glowing yellow, like lightbulbs. The other key feature was her cutie mark, which was a magnifying glass. She wore a mournful look on her face, the kind only truly soul decimating experiences can bring. She stepped into the bright opening, bringing into her view the last thing she ever expected in everfree forest.

A town. A bright, colorful, town, just like Ponyville. The sheer improbability of it was astounding, and Applebloom rubbed her eyes in disbelief. When she opened her eyes, the town was still there. It had colorful banners hung up, and there were tables with refreshments, marshmallow peeps and punch. There were ponies in the streets, who looked like they were having the time of their lives. Smiles and cheer reigned supreme in what seemed at this point like a surreal dream. At the front, a large grey earth pony with a black mane stood. He beamed at Applebloom as she cautiously approached the town.

"Ha ha! Why hi there little filly! And welcome to Sunny Town!" he chortled.

Applebloom gave a half-hearted laugh in reply. "Um. Thanks. But just who are you anyways?"

The earth pony curtsied to her. "Grey Hoof, at your service! Celebration planner extraordinaire!" he gestured to the tables lined with all sorts of festive foods, "The party just started, please help yourself to some food and drinks!"

Applebloom wandered the town nervously, taking in the sights and smells of this strange place. Over in a corner sat a bluish white mare with a scarlet mane. She was whispering to herself and Applebloom decided to move along without a word. She reached a house with a tan colt with a medium blue mane sitting pensively at the door. She trotted up to him and spoke to him nervously.

"Um, hey there. What's wrong?"

He spoke back nervously, "Oh...nothing."

Applebloom clearly wasn't buying it. He sighed, deciding it was best to let it out.

"Fine, I'll tell you. The pony over there is Starlet, I was going to give her a gift tonight. But I lost it. Nowhere to be found. It was so pretty too." He sighed, dragging his hoof on the ground nervously. Applebloom glanced around, and thought she saw a glint over to the West side of town.

She trotted over in that direction, and she soon saw that the glint was emanating from a red gem at the edge of the woods. She headed over and picked it up, but instead of heading back into the town immediately, she looked into the trees and bushes that made the border between the town, and the woods beyond.

And she caught another glint of something. But this one didn't seem so innocuous like the one that had tipped her off to the gem. She could sense it was looking back at her, meeting her gaze, even though the glint was now gone and she could only see forest. She headed back after what seemed like a long, pensive wait, which amounted to about 45 seconds of real time. As she headed back, she saw a tan maned and tan coated earth pony stallion, and headed over to him. She had counted over twenty ponies in the town, and not one had a cutie mark, so she thought she should ask somepony.

"Um, hey, why don't ya'll have any cutie marks?"

He looked at her and laughed like she had asked if they had seen a human. "Cutie Marks? I am sorry little filly, I have no idea what you are talking about."

She slowly headed back to the town center, feeling unsure as to what this all meant. She passed by the colt from earlier, whose eyes brightened at seeing her carrying the gem. He galloped over to her with a look of gratitude on his face.

"You found it, thank you thank you thank you!" he said, quickly dashing off to meet with that pony he had bought the gift for. Starlet, she thought her name was. Now Applebloom saw that he had left the door to his place open, and her curiosity drew her in.

The house was mostly empty, except for that in one corner, there was a dark grey pony with a ruby colored mane. She was hunched over bawling, and it almost seemed that a red spotlight was on her. Right near her was a crank for a well of some sort. She carefully tiptoed to it, care not to disturb the pony in the corner, who was crying about something.

"Every year...it's the same...the same thing every year...what could I have done...what could I have done..." she sobbed as Applebloom hauled flank out the door.

She wandered around town, bumping into an insanely green pony, who looked like the embodiment of St. Patricks Day, complete with bright Ireland green coat and mane. She smiled at her brightly, waving a hoof, Applebloom with less care than previously, approached her.

"Oh, hi there. I never knew that there were any towns in Everfree." she said.

The verdant pony giggled at her. "You are not the first visitor to say that. We have everything we need here, so we rarely ever leave."

Applebloom was starting to lose her bad feeling about the town. These ponies seemed really nice, and despite the fact they were a little weird, so were a lot of the Ponyville ponies. She decided this would be a great place to stay the night until daytime rose. Besides, the punch did look delicious.

She was just getting settled in when she saw a beaten path leading to the North side of town. Applebloom was now very fascinated with this place, and trotted down the path to take a look. The area it lead to was an abandoned area of the town. No ponies inhabited the area, and the houses, while intact, were locked and empty, and the lighting was like the rest of everfree, not like the bright, Ponyville esque lighting of the rest of Sunny Town.

This did not immediately frighten Applebloom though, since she had seen many abandoned areas of Ponyville. Often times some areas were just not good for use by ponies for some reasons her sister had promised to explain when she was older.

At the very North end was one house that stood out. It was the largest, had a well and a front yard, and looked like it would be a nice place if it was fixed up. She looked down the well, and caught a glimpse of a metallic flash. She noticed that the well was missing a crank, and promptly attached the crank she found to the well, bringing the bucket up, with the small metal thing in it.

It was a rusty old key, with a few spots of clean metal still showing. She trotted over to the door to test the key out, and sure enough, the rusty old key turned in the lock, making the distinct sound of rusted joints and latches that anypony who has worked with aged machinery should know.

She opened the door, which groaned and creaked from the years old metal and wood being moved for the first time in so long. She saw that there was only two things in the house. One was a desk, which upon inspection, contained nothing but a few pens and a magnifying glass. The other thing was a fireplace, which just had some clutter and ashes in it. But something was telling Appleboom to look closer. Almost as if somepony had worked it's way into her conscience to tell her the "clutter" in the fireplace was more than meets the eye.

She trotted over to the fireplace, peering inside. As she watched, one of the burnt logs didn't look at all like a log. She started to wiped the ashes away with her hoof, and after a few wipes, she felt her heart plummet, and she stumbled back.

A skeleton. A charred, curled up skeleton. The skull was fractured and the frame could have not belonged to a pony much bigger than Applebloom.

"No..." She whispered. "NO NO NO!" she then shouted in terror.

She had to get out. She would return to Sunny Town, and the towns ponies would keep her safe. She threw the door open and galloped at full speed back to town. When she got there, she could only freeze in muted horror.

The town was no longer sunny. The grass was now a dead bluish brown and the trees were now like giant black claws extending skywards. The Houses were now in ruins, the windows smashed in and the walls crumbling. They had lost their bright paint and were the same color as the dead trees around the town. The towns ponies were nowhere to be seen, the tables had turned a mottled grey, and the food looked a lot less festive, and there were now clumps and organs floating in the punch. And the peeps were still there, watching with unforgiving, red eyes.

Applebloom's stomach churned, her mind raced. The sky was now red tinted as she frantically stumbled around, trying to find somepony to tell her what was going in. Her eyes darted every which way, her small body trembling in terror. A deep, raspy voice suddenly emanated from thin air, and it carried a faint resemblance to Grey Hoof's.

"She had the mark. She had to go." the voice hissed.

And then, just as things seemed to be hitting rock bottom, an equine shape rose from the ground. It was a wispy skeleton, with bits of fur and flesh still clinging to it's body, it's eyes nothing but sunken, lifeless pits, it's mane a few tattered ends of twine. It spoke too, in a raspy, shrill voice.

"She was going to spoil the party. It was the only way."

Applebloom shuddered. This couldn't be happening. It wasn't happening. As the towns ponies who she had thought were so friendly and loving rose from the Earth as monsters, she heard another terrifying noise from the woods. A rumble, like the roar of the lion and an earthquake mixed together. She swore she felt the ground vibrate as the rumble intensified.

At this point, with ponies rising from the dead, the sky turning red, earthquakes, and the entire town in shambles, she had concluded this was the apocalypse. She raced back to the house where she had found the skeleton, which was still intact, luckily. She yanked the key from the hole and slammed the door shut, barricading herself in.

The shrill noises and cries of the undead carried through the cold air as she huddled up in a corner, sure she was about to die. She could feel the tremors getting stronger and she closed her eyes, ready for it all to end. She heard two successive blasts from outside, like sharp, echoless thunder.

The walls around her began to crumble, and Applebloom wept,not looking, not wanting to see how she would be taken in her final moments. She only wanted to see the light, for this nightmare to be over.

***  
To be continued...

**What? No LyraxBonBon OTP? Well, I can feel all of reading this while sharpening your pitchforks and lighting your torches, but rest assured, I took the precaution of buying a bunker just so I could safely include this non pairing. But seriously, deal with it. I am trying to be a little more creative than most, and such basic things as not using cookiecutter shipping patterns is generally a good start. **

**And if anyone reading this speaks Russian or knows any Russian speakers, PM me! I would like to give our tank crew some lines in their native language to add flavor, but my studies in German have pushed back my Russian learning for the time being! Read and Review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Oh, boy. This is either going to make me or break me. Is this Chapter going to be over the top and outlandish? Hell yes. Will it do that in a way that makes it stupid, or make it awesome and fun? I don't know, you decide. Prepare, for the most ludicrous installment yet, in this already ludicrous story!**

As Klyshko scanned the area for any signs of other tanks, friend or foes, both Plotnikov and Kuhta checked their radios, only to receive static on every frequency. Metelytsa checked the Katenka's controls, and they were completely fine, she was operating normally. He parked Katenka on some solid, level ground in the clearing and applied the parking brake, so that they could step out to inspect the tank.

Kuhta, Metelytsa and Klyshko dismounted and left Zhdanov, Polyanskiy and Plotnikov inside, that way, the tank could still provide cover fire if hostiles appeared, and they could maintain communication, since their headsets still worked. Metelytsa grabbed his PPsH-41 Submachine Gun, which he had requisitioned to supplement their firepower on foot. It had a 71 round drum magazine and was a very crude, but very rugged gun. He checked to make sure the round was properly chambered before slinging it over his shoulder.

Kuhta and Klyshko checked their side arms as well. Klyshko carried a TT-33 Tokarev Semi Auto pistol, which fired out of an 8 round magazine, using the same cartridge as Metelytsa's PPsH, allowing them to pool ammo. Kuhta, since he wasn't an officer, carried a 1895 Nagant Revolver. It was a 7 shot revolver that was horribly inaccurate and clumsy to load. It was generally accepted that if the situation had gotten bad enough to warrant its use, it was time to make peace with God.

"Kuhta, check the engine area, Metelytsa, make sure the suspension is alright, I will check exterior weapons." Klyshko spoke as softly as he could while still communicating effectively.

Both of them nodded, and each went to inspect their respective areas. Kuhta found the engine and surrounding systems to be clean as they were from the factory, not a scratch or ding that wasn't there originally. Metelytsa checked the suspension , and all the tracks were tensed to the correct specs, and none of the wheels looked damaged or misaligned.

Klyshko had similar findings, seeing as all the gun barrels were clean, and were not warped or chipped in any way. Seeing that Katenka was in good health, they then set about finding out where they were. They climbed back into the tank and manned their stations.

"Kuhta, Plotnikov, you guys have maps, can you see anywhere which looks like where people might be?" Klyshko asked.

Plotnikov and Kuhta both inspected the map and found the town due West of their position to be the only slice of civilization on the map. At all. There were no roads leading to it, no scattred outlying buildings, just that one island of artificiality in the otherwise pitch black forest. Seeing as there obviously no other vehicles around, they decided that for navigation purposes it would be prudent to turn the headlights on.

As they did this, Klyshko spotted two gleaming orbs of yellow in the West treeline. He called out the unidentified contact and ordered Metelytsa to close in on it. The blonde haired driver quickly responded by taking the vehicle out of park, and setting a Westward course to pursue the mysterious creature.

"Sir, why are we pursuing this thing if we don't know if it's friendly or not?" asked Kuhta, wondering if this was possibly an ambush.

Klyshko calmly explained into his headset, the ears of his hat flapping in the wind as the drove full off road speed through the countryside.

"Because, it's not a trap. I have very keen sense of these things."

Kuhta decided to take this answer as good enough. Klyshko had seemed to have developed an almost psychic ability to tell whether they could be seen, but it also gave him a natural premonition about other things as well. A lot of decisions he made were based on, "I can sense it." as the grounding principle.

As they followed it through the woods, it was quite clear it either had no idea how to properly evade armor, or wanted them to follow it, since it always kept to terrain that was easily navigable, with few surprise hills, mud pits or ditches. They noticed the breaks between the greenery were widening, and the contact disappeared into the light area which lined up with the town on the map. Klyshko found a ditch near the border between the forest and the town, which exposed only their turret to observation, and even that was though some bushes.

Metelytsa drove the metal maiden into the ditch as gently as he could, and cut the engine to keep as quiet as possible. Polyanskiy turned the turret so it was looking at the town. Klyshko buttoned up in the tank, closing all the hatches. Being sealed inside the tank with all the hatches closed would be unbearable were it not for the crew had a certain piece of equipment with them.

An air conditioning unit. Though on the surface it seemed silly, having an AC unit and some fans to circulate air allowed the crew to perform their best in what were otherwise hot, cramped confines, which were now luckily perfect temperature, cramped confines. They settled in and Klyshko peered through his periscope to see what was in the town.

"Во имя Матери-России, что это?" he whispered to himself.

Through the periscope, he saw a bunch of small, curvy, colorful, huge eyed, cartoon horses. And they appeared to be without saddles or bridles, or any signs of humans whatsoever. A further inspection of the town indicated that all the buildings were constructed to dimensions suited for the horses.

Klyshko tapped Polyanskiy on the shoulder, and Polyanskiy, grumbled back.

"Da, I see it too. What I am finding harder is believing it."

By now the rest of the crew, who didn't have access to the periscopes or gunsights, was intrigued. Zhdanov's jaw pretty much hit the floor when he climbed up to the gun to check what was getting at Polyanskiy.

"No way..." he gasped, "We must be in dream."

Polyanskiy shook his head. Metelysta, Kuhta and Plotnikov were picking up the chatter and had also become interested in what was going on that was so...bizarre.

"What is all commotion about?" Plotnikov shouted back.

Klyshko sighed. "Tiny, adorable, colorful horses. And they appear to be the ones running town as well."

Kuhta felt a small tremor inside. _Could this be real? _he wondered. Plotnikov shook his head in disbelief, and Metelytsa grinned, trying to make the best of the situation.

"Well, I can't imagine colorful, small horses are any danger at all! This is like field day for us!"

Kuhta sat pondering, scratching at the back of his head. This all sounded so familiar, but he couldn't put his finger on where he had heard it. He was very certain he knew the nature of the cartoon horses, but this scenario set off a warning in his subconscious. Klyshko's "Sixth Sense" was also telling him something wasn't right, but nothing they could see, hear or smell gave evidence to these premonitions.

None of them that showed their face had the yellow eyes of the contact before, Klyshko noted, so that meant it was still hiding. After a few minutes of this quiet observation, Klyshko noticed one that stood out. A very small specimen, a cream yellow with a red mane. This made another odd fact stand out to Klyshko.

All the horses were adult. If this small one stood as a sample size for a juvenile of their species, then all the other's present had to be full grown. Perhaps their practices forbade children from wandering near the cities bounds. But this young one seemed to defy this theory, as it brisked the edges of the town several times without any visible repercussions.

Then it caught sight of something, and for a moment it seemed as if it was them it has seen, for it looked almost straight at them and came over and stopped only 15 meters from their position. The crew held their breath, expecting the infant to either attack them or panic, which was what wild animals were known to do when faced with an alien entity.

But instead, it picked up a small red gem, in it's teeth, stopped and stared literally right at them for a brief moment, and then trotted back into the town without a noise. The crew all breathed a sigh of relief, grateful their cover hadn't been blown. After a few minutes the crew had gotten over the initial shock of what they had found.

They were used to discovering new, bizarre things, and though the shock and awe value of such things still was there during the first few minutes, the crew had learned to get over it and follow a very well laid out procedure. Figure out what the new thing was, how it worked, and what it does.

If it turned out to be hostile they would observe it's weak points, and if it was friendly, how they could best work in tandem with it. After a few minutes, the crew was starting to believe these horses could be nothing but friendlies, just by their cheery demeanor and appearance. They showed no signs of weapons or military development, and Klyshko was considering how to go about first contact.

"So, you think they speak Russian or English?" Klyshko asked.

"Hopefully they don't speak German." Metelytsa quipped. This earned a few chuckles from the crew, and even a brief smirk from Klyshko.

"Maybe we should not introduce them to Katenka at first. She might scare them if they don't know her." Polyanskiy chimed in, rather detached sounding.

Klyshko nodded. "Agreed. We already stand much bigger than they, we do not need to make them even more afraid."

Zhdanov was tapping his fingers on the casing of a 57mm round, down in the turret basket. "I have worked very often with horses, but if these ones can make buildings, then I think we can say they aren't anything like horses I know."

Plotnikov just sat in his seat shaking his head. He was blubbering something that sounded like a drunken tour of east europe, and none of the crew could pin what language he was going for, and even if they could, it would have been doubtful that they would have been able to understand them.

Then, without warning, the town suddenly flashed and when it came back into view, was a truly ghastly sight to behold. The residents had disappeared from the streets, and the buildings were stripped of their bright paint and were a ghastly grey, with smashed windows and crumbling walls. The sky was now red tinted and the ground was now a sickly greenish grey in color.

Then, heading South from the towns North end, was the small horse from earlier. It looked rather frightened and disoriented. Klyshko couldn't blame it. There was much to be frightened by as it stumbled around, frantically, it's eyes dilated to the size of peas. And then, a shrill, raspy, hellish voice emanated from the thin air.

"She had the mark. She had to go." it shrieked.

Metelytsa was very perplexed by all of this, not being able to see, nor realizing what in hell the voice was talking about. Despite his normally persistent optimism, a creeping feeling of dread was coming over him.

"Что за черт?" he asked, puzzled.

"I do not know! I can't see anything talking! Aside from the little yellow horse, I can't see anyone at all!" Polyanskiy shouted back. Polyanskiy had lost his detached, bumbling demeanor, and was in what Klyshko had dubbed a "Controlled Panic.", wherein Polyanskiy was frightened and excitable, but still performed his duties as expected. He drummed the side of the gunsight nervously, waiting for something to happen.

And then something appeared that made the disembodied voice seem almost tame. A corpse, rising up from the deathly black soil. A black skeleton with bits and tatters of skin and flesh hanging on. No blood seemed to flow from it's gaping holes, and a large portion of it's chest was missing, though the lack of any visible organs where there should have been didn't seem to bother it.

Only a fool would fail to realize that walking corpses were hostiles. While fiction was normally no good yardstick for assessing real situations, the surreal scene before them meant that fiction was realistic in this light, and walking corpses were ubiquitously villainous. The corpse started advancing on the small yellow horse and Klyshko decided at that time, that it was time to interfere.

"Metelytsa, start her up!" he ordered sharply.

Metelytsa hit the starter, but engine cranked over a few times before coughing and failing to start. Meanwhile Polyanskiy and Klyshko were fixated on the strange, undead menaces.

"She was going to spoil the party. It was the only way." it hissed.

More corpses were rising to join the first, their hisses and shrieks carried in the cold night air. The tanks engine finally roared to life, filling the crews ears with the soothing rhythm of 500 horsepower ready to pull them out of danger. As soon as their engine roared to life, the sole horse which hadn't turned into a monster turned and fled North in terror. Klyshko wanted to extricate, but they needed a local to figure out what was going on.

"Alright, Metelytsa, get us out of this ditch and take us into town. Head due North." Klyshko ordered.

The vehicle lurched forward, and climbed out of the ditch, cresting the sharp drop as it made it's thunderous debut to the strange creatures. The creatures, which had previously been engaged in pursuit of the small yellow youngling, now turned their attention to the huge steel beast that rose before them. They shrieked at it and started to move towards it.

"It too has the mark!", one hissed.

"It must be here to help the foal ruin the party.", another one growled.

None of the crew had any clue as to what the creatures meant, but they knew that they weren't welcome. Metelytsa, not letting the gruesome creatures get in the way of his orders, simply drove by them, and under Klyshko's direction, headed up a beaten path at the North West corner of the town. At the end was a collection of buildings which seemed to have not been affected the same way the rest had. Yes, they were old, but they hadn't received the haunted house makeover the whole place had donned.

Klyshko spotted two of the monsters closing on the house, and sensed that it was here the small young horse had fled. He ordered everyone to unlock their weapons, and for Polyanskiy to dispose of the two hostiles. He calmly sighted in the first creature, blasting it in half with an AP shell that struck it in the spine. Zhadanov, having learned they were engaging soft targets, loaded a HE shell this time, which had a lot more explosives in it, and instead of just punching right through soft targets, like AP often did, would detonate upon hitting anything solid.

This whole decision and loading took less than a tenth of the time it took to read about it, and in a few seconds Polyanskiy had the second demon in his sights, and blew it to pieces with 7 pounds of angry steel and TNT. The threat gone, Klyshko opened his hatch, checked his TT-33, and dismounted to retrieve the..."foal"...if he recalled the demons terminology correctly. He jogged up to the house door, only to find it was locked shut.

"Metelytsa, it's locked. Get me the 25 ton lock pick, I want you to hit the left side of the house." he spoke into his comm set.

"Sir, what if we hit it? I don't want to run small friend over!" Metelytsa protested.

Klyshko sighed, responding. "She's in the far right corner, trust me."

Metelytsa shook his head, hoping the commanders senses that had saved their life so many times before would save this child horse as well. Klyshko gave him the clear, indicating he was out of the way and Metelytsa was cleared to "Pick the Lock" with Katenka. He urged the lady forward, crushing the left half of the house under 25 tons of fighting steel.

With the obstacle to entry removed, Klyshko holstered his pistol and raced into the house. He found the small, terrified little thing in the corner where he had said she was. This was his first time seeing it up close, allowing him to see how it trembled, and hear a sound like a childs whimpering.

He cleared his throat and spoke to it, first trying Russian.

"Пойдем со мной, если хочешь жить!"

It looked up at him suddenly, looking at him a little confused.

"What?" it spoke.

Klyshko would have had a heart attack if he hadn't just been listening to zombies and disembodied voices, making this seem mundane by comparison.

He held out his hand to her, having discerned it was a she from her feminine voice, and motioned to himself.

"Come with me if you want to live!", he pleaded her.

She tilted her head at him, not sure what to think. She then spoke up nervously.

"But mah big sister says never to accept things from strangers.", she said.

Klyshko chuckled a little despite the situation they were in. Here she was in this nightmare, having just been set upon by zombies, and she was still standing by the old doctrine of wariness towards strangers. She obviously had been taught principles very well.

"Well, what did your big sister say about strangers who are trying to get you out of a town full of zombies?", Klyshko asked.

She nodded, considering for a moment before looking up at him skeptically.

"But ya'll are humans, and humans are supposed to be a myth!" she cried.

Klyshko shrugged nonchalantly. "Alright, I guess you can just discuss our mythical status with zombies. I am sure they would be most interested in this conversation."

When faced with the prospect of either mythical creatures or psychopathic ghouls for company, she decided that the humans were a better option. Though she had no idea if they were any more or less dangerous than the zombies who she had also thought were trustworthy, these humans had not shown to be hostile so far. Hopefully they wouldn't turn out to be a repeat of the villagers.

She nodded expectantly at him. "Well, let's git goin then!"

Klyshko picked her up in his arms, carrying her over to the tank. She couldn't have been more than two feet tall, at the most. He climbed back into his hatch and set her down in the turret ring. He saw more of the undead rising, and he ordered Metelytsa to get them out as fast as he could, and to pick the route at his discretion. They raced forward at full speed, zig zagging through the gauntlet of animated corpses.

As they were almost to the towns exit point, Klyshko turned around to see three of the creatures pursuing them. One was galloping towards them at unbelievable speed. As it closed, he pulled the bolt back on his 12.7mm mounted machinegun. The bolt slammed forward with the distinctive, "chk!" noise of the solid metal components readying for use. The other two had gone around and were in front of them now. The first tried to stand in their path but was smashed by the speeding tank. The second leaped onto the front of the tank, trying to crawl up to Klyshko and gnash at him with broken, jagged teeth.

He clamped his finger down on the trigger, the machine gun spitting a hail of lead at the creature, which shuddered under the barrage and fell limp and tumbled off the tank. The third one, made a huge pounce from a tree limb with a shrill screech, landing itself on the back half of the tank's hull. While the others had red eyes, this one had literally none, and it pointed itself at Klyshko in a crouching stance, trying to steady itself for its next lunge.

Not having enough time to order the turret turned around, his hand dropped to his holster and he drew his pistol. He took aim and fired 8 shots at it. He assumed some of his rounds hit home, since it made a ear piercing howl and fell off the vehicle. He then heard the loudest, ear piercing screech he ever heard. The young horse was pointing in the direction it came from looking at him with pleading eyes.

"Mister! There is a pony that need our help! We gotta go help her, I bet those meany things got her too!"

Klyshko looked down at her skeptically.

"You sure that this is pony who needs help?" he asked her.

The young pony nodded affirmatively. Klyshko decided it wouldn't hurt to investigate, so he ordered Metelytsa to head in the direction of the scream. Katenka thundered off the road and towards the sound, and something a lot less tangible.

While Applebloom and the tank crew were busy uncovering the secrets of Sunnytown, Ruby was desperately fleeing through the forest. In her attempt to bring a force to stop the townsponies once and for all, she betrayed her position to the Nightmares, and they gave an angry pursuit at the sight of her.

Four standard nightmares, as well as a special one, rose to pursue her. She knew it, as it was the one which seemed almost as much out to get her personally, as well as in an act of vengeance. It had come to rest in irradiated soil, and now had a cancerous outgrowth on its left face and neck. A sickly green emanated from it as it hobbled around, it's step troubled from counterbalancing the huge outgrowth.

The thing caught sight of her and made a hollow wheezing noise at her. She tried to run but it had already launched a long thin appendage from it's mouth. The creature had an overgrow prehensile tongue it used to lasso Ruby with.

"You..refused our friendship! We told you to leave!", it coughed.

The long, filthy rope of flesh shot towards the grey mare and tangled itself around her, preventing her from fleeing, only becoming tighter as she struggled in it's binds. The abomination slowly retracted it's grotesque appendage, dragging her to another agonizing round of brutalization a their hooves.

"Now, we will make you stay! Show you the pain of not having friends!"

The thing started to tighten its grip on her till she couldn't breath. Despite the fact that she did not need to breath, she still felt the agonizing pressure and the feeling of strangulation somehow still pervaded her. She felt light headed and dizzy, the world starting to wobble before her.

Suddenly she was tossed against a tree violently, slamming into it with a sickening crunch. She then was then pinned down on the ground, stomach side down with her legs spread out. The four nightmares encircled her, closing on her from in front, behind, and both sides. They were all carrying heavy stones on their backs.

Ruby could only close her eyes and clench her teeth as they dropped the stones onto her legs, which produced a chorus of nasty snapping noises. She yowled in pain, and she felt the tongue which had been holding her slowly unravel itself, coming uncomfortably close to her private areas as it slid off of her.

She shuddered as the long tongued Nightmare slowly hobbled around her, stopping in front of her. It ran it's tongue over her face, coating her face in a thick, nasty smelling slime. It then slipped it's tongue under her eyeball into her eye socket, rolling itself around the soft orb.

A sudden, burning pain shot through Ruby, the caustic tentacle searing into her inner eye. It felt like somepony had jammed a knife under her eye and if he had a digestive system, she would have relieved herself at this point.

The hideous, smoke billowing abomination retracted its tongue out of her eye socket, making another raspy hiss as it slid a tentacle down her stomach and across her private areas.

The screams carried for miles afterwards, and the nightmares looked on, fixated as the leader violated her. After it was over Ruby was curled up in a corner, gritting her teeth. She was upset, but now she was also angry, and she soon would have friends.

The disfigured smoking nightmare hobbled over to her, its hideous tongue dangling out.

"Forsake your mark and you can feel our friendship once again!", it wheezed.

And then, Ruby heard a sound like distant, cracking thunder, and she sneered up at the nightmare.

"Never! I am going to bring my friends, and they will show you real friendship!"

And with that, she spat up at the nightmare, summed up all the strength inside her, and made a mad dash towards the sounds. She raced through the forest, praying that she would have the energy to get to them in time. She screamed like he never had, like a banshee, using the yells to pump herself up, to make that last push. After a few minutes, it looked like she was going to make it. She heard the noise that the humans strange chariot made, and felt like she was in the clear. But then her vision was blinded by obscenely bright lights and she felt a sudden impact, and she instantly lost conscience.

Katenka bounced around like a bucking bronco on cocaine, thrashing it's crew about as they headed down the rough terrain. Klyshko had to clutch Applebloom in his arms, for fear she might get hurt or worse, being thrown against the interior of the tank. Plotnikov had his vodka bottle smashed open, and everybody was plain sore from the trip.

Kuhta was peering through his MG sight, and suddenly he saw something grey in front and below them. He called it out to Metelytsa, who adjusted course to meet the contact. Just as they were about to where they thought they saw it, they dropped off a 5 foot ridge. Metelytsa handled the drop expertly, and kept going through it. Just as they leveled out though, the heard a very loud thump on the front of their tank. Metelytsa slammed the brakes and put the tank in park. Klyshko and Kuhta climbed out to see what they had hit.

On the ground in front of them was the grey pony from before. She was lying motionless on the ground, but appeared not hurt at all. Kuhta ran over to her and knelt down to see if she was ok, while Klyshko stood back and observed her objectively.

Kuhta breathed a sigh of relief when he noticed that she was still breathing. What was odd was that when he felt her chest, neck and limbs, she had no pulse. He also noticed for the first time a magnifying glass on her rear. He looked over his shoulder back at Klyshko.

"She is breathing...but she has no pulse. She also has a cuti-, strange mark that none of the others have."

Klyshko nodded, absorbing this information and trying to add it together to get some answers. Unfortunately, all it did was leave him with more questions. He took his hand off his holster and walked briskly back to Katenka. Kuhta remained kneeled over the pony, fascinated by her.

"What are we going to do with her? We cannot leave her!" Kuhta called back to Klyshko, who simply shrugged nonchalantly.

"If you wish to take her under you care, I will not stop you. As long as you are willing to share a seat with her." Klyshko punctuated the last statement with a smirk.

Kuhta picked her up, draping her over his shoulders and carrying her to Katenka. He carefully climbed into his hatch and set her in his lap. He was glad she was as small as she was. Only 4 feet tall, had she been any larger it would be rather cramped in the tiny radio turret. He adjusted her posture to one that looked moderately comfortable, and with that Klyshko ordered them to extricate the area.

As they rode along the dirt path, the young pony spoke up to Klyshko.

"Uh, mister! Ah wanna stop! Mah flanks are hurtin from all tha bumpy ridin we been doin!"

"We should probably find secure area. What is your name, young pony?"

"Mah name is Applebloom, what's yur name?"

"Zakhar Klyshko. Applebloom...sounds like silly name. Is it common where you come from?"

"Mah name? Funny? Ya'll aint got no room to talk with a funny name like, "Zakhar" !" Applebloom said, looking at him indignantly and confused.

Klyshko looked back at her equally perplexed. "We have much to talk about."

After a few minutes, they located a grotto, hemmed in by thick trees on three sides, and a small gully about 25 meters deep, which had a river flowing through it at the bottom, on the back side. It was wide enough that there was no way that anything that could see them could cross. Metelytsa eased Katenka into the grotto, careful to try and not knock over the trees that would provide them with cover.

Within the hour, Katenka was parked peacefully, and the crew had set up their sleeping mats and had a small fire going to heat up their rations. Metelytsa had wanted to build a real fire, with flames and all, because he insisted it was better for telling jokes around. Klyshko vetoed him on that, insisting that they use only a flat bed of coals, to reduce visibility, and preserve their night vision.

Once they had recovered from the cramps and aches brought on by the offroad driving, each of the crew set about getting their camp setup. Zhdanov grabbed the axe of the back of the tank and headed off into the woods to gather some fuel. He carried the PPsH at the insistence of Metelytsa, who didn't want his comrade to have to face any of those strange zombies with just a revolver.

Klyshko found a patch of dirt that was clear of any tinder or undergrowth, and marked it as the fire pit location. Plotnikov was starting to sober up, and the violent driving had depleted his vodka supply by smashing it all over the floor of his workstation. He stumbled onto a patch of dirt by the fire pit, and passed out right there. Kuhta found a few seat sized rocks and with Polyanskiys help, set up seating around the fire pit.

Polyanskiy immediately seated himself and pulled out a pack of cigars, lighting one and zoning out. Kuhta gently lifted the yellow maned pony from the tank, and set her down on the grass near where Kuhtas seat was. Meanwhile, Klyshko took a seat and had his notepad out. He was fervently writing down notes on everything he had seen so far, from sketches of the zombies, to transcripts of what they had said and notes on their movement patterns and how they had attacked. Klyshko was unnerved by the abundance of questions, and the paucity of answers, especially in relation to the nature and motives of their enemies.

Applebloom sat alone, by Katenka, a little upset, and not sure what to do. The humans all seemed so...serious, and unapproachable. Metelytsa noticed her sitting alone and walked over to her. He knelt down to her and tapped her on the shoulder. She looked up at him a little morose.

"Yeah?" she asked.

"Why you sit alone? I know that others seem not friendly, but they are good people. They just sometimes get like this."

Applebloom sat up and faced him. "So, ya'll aint always like this?"

Metelytsa shook his head. "Not always. Klyshko sometimes gets like this when there is problem."

"So, is he friendly normally?"

Metelytsa chuckled and stood up, turning towards the fire pit area. "I think we need to introduce you more formally. Come."

She stood up and followed him to where the rest of the crew were sitting. Metelytsa sat on a rock and she parked beside him. Just then, Zhdanov came back, hauling a load of logs with him. He set it by the firepit, and then dug the actual pit with a shovel. A few drops of kerosene and one of Polyankiys lighters later, they had a fire going, which they fanned so it broke down into coals. Zhdanov gave a satisfied smile at his work, and took a seat next to Metelytsa.

Applebloom looked at him pensively. Metelytsa noticed her and chuckled, gesturing to Zhdanov.

"Young pony...you said your name was Applebloom? This is Zhdanov, he has worked with ponies before, I believe."

Zhdanov looked up at his name being called, then turned his attention to the filly in front of him.

"Oh. Yes, I have. They had less color and talked not so much.", he turned to Metelytsa, "And the young ones are known as...fillies, if my English is still good."

She smiled a little at him. "Um...ya'll don't seem like ya'll wanna talk...is this conversation feelin awkward?"

Zhdanov blinked for a few seconds, then shook his head. "No...I just like to do things...talking is not where I am good."

Metelytsa shook his head at this and grinned. "Zhdanov, I have seen you when you get warmed up to person. Now, I admit this takes long time."

Zhdanov shot Metelytsa an unamused look. "Metelytsa...I know that you aren't trying to give me this filly because I have personality."

Metelytsa looked at Zhdanov a little disappointed, but he quickly summed up another one of his smiles. "Look, this young one needs to have guardian. None of us know ponies as you do. You are only qualified one for this."

Applebloom looked up at him wide eyed. "Ya'll sayin you can help me?"

Zhdanov nodded hesitantly. "I...yes, this I can do."

Metelytsa clapped a little golf clap, and then his attention was drawn to Kuhta and the grey pony. She was waking up, and now they were concerned about how she would handle the situation she was in.

Kuhta watched her intently as she squirmed and groaned, her eyelids slowly lifting. When she had them fully open, she saw Kuhta looking down at her, and then looked around, surprised, but so far not panicking.

"Uuuuuuuuugh. Where am I? Are the nightmares gone?", she groaned.

Kuhta gulped and spoke back to her. "I...my name is Bronislav Kuhta...and we...well...we kinda...ah...how do I say this..." He stammered out, trying to think of a way to make what they had done sound better.

Polyanskiy blew a puff from his cigar, and pitched in, "We ran you over and kidnapped you."

Kuhtas gaze snapped onto Polyankiy, shooting him daggers. He looked back at the pony apologetically. She looked at him a little unsure.

"Is what he said...true?"

Kuhta nodded slowly. She looked at him a little upset.

_Oh god...so now they are kidnappers! _she thought to herself. _But...maybe they meant well. _

Her conscience put in a caustic reminder, _ Not that that means much. Remember Ruby, the last time you ran into ponies with so called 'good intent'?_

As Ruby was debating this to herself, Kuhta stood back a ways and held out his hands defensively. He gave himself a thump on the head in his mind, his conscience chiding him.

_Great! You couldn't have put it any better. Polyanskiy was being a fool, but you compounded it by just agreeing to him! Way to bumble first contact!_

"Look...the whole running over part was an accident. As for kidnapping you...I really thought it would be bad to leave you alone in forest." he said nervously and apologetically.

She looked at him skeptically, churning over what to do in her mind. They had her surrounded, but they seemed at ease, well, except for the one with a brown mane and a notebook, who wrote something down fervently every time she did something. But, none of them seemed overly concerned. She noticed that the two sitting with Applebloom were looking at her interested, maybe even a little concerned, but they looked lax enough making a run for it wasn't out of the question.

But she wanted to stay and learn more about the strange warriors she had discovered. She cleared her throat and spoke back to the one that was looking at her nervously. He looked frightened. Not the type that comes from the fear of death, but a fear of failure.

"Um, hi. I am Ruby. I am an Earth Pony." she stated flatly.

Kuhta blinked for a minute, and suddenly a realization hit him. He had had a feeling of deja vu ever since they arrived in this place, and now, this one detail seemed to let the others fall into place. It all flashed before him suddenly. The exchange with the Americans, the late night reading, his desperate attempt to flush the memory.

He stopped himself from revealing that he knew of her. He decided it was best she didn't know. He would try to keep up the charade as long as he could, and so set about re gathering all the information he already knew about her.

"Ruby, what were you doing near strange village?"

She turned her head away from him, sighing. "Well, you see, I kinda brought you guys here...well, it's a really long story...but can you just accept that they are very evil and I wanted you guys to vanquish them."

Klyshko nodded as he finished writing a few notes, looking up at her. "Are there no military forces in area which could assist?"

She shook her head. "There is no civilization here, other than Sunnytown...", she said, biting her lip.

Kuhta nodded, glancing at the Magnifying Glass on her flank, then looking back up at her yellow eyes.

"But, how did you find us? We are sure this place does not exist on our world."

She glanced around nervously, then gestured to the mark on her flank.

"You see, this thing, on my flank? It means that my special ability is finding things."

Kuhta nodded, interested. "But how can you find something from another world?"

"One night, after I found myself reliving...well, the night I...I mean, I had a nightmare, and after I woke up, and I prayed to the Princesses that I would find a great warrior who would ride in on a mighty chariot and smite every last one of those monsters, for what they did to next day, I found this ruin, and there was writing in a strange language all over it, and strange looking machines everywhere. I pulled a lever and found myself among these great, strange machines which only did battle with each other."

Klyshko looked up, now very surprised and fascinated. He looked up from his notes once more, looking at Ruby.

"You were in tank battle. We call these 'chariots' tanks, and we fight them for pride, money, honor, fun, and many reasons. Me, I do it because it is great mental exercise."

She nodded back at him. "At first I was terrified, but soon I noticed that they never attacked me, and then I realized they were crewed by...humans. I realized that somehow, this was the answer to my prayers. Now you remember how I said I was good at finding things?"

Kuhta nodded.

"Well, I decided that I would find the best warriors of the bunch. And so, after searching through many battles, I found you guys."

Metelytsa joined in at this point. "So what makes ponies from town so evil that you must bring us here? We may seem nice...but...how should I say this..."

"We are basically a bunch of professional killers, and if we fight them our way, we will slaughter every last one, leaving no survivors." Polyanskiy stated bluntly.

Ruby nodded understandingly. "I want them gone. I really don't want to tell you guys the story behind why, but I just want them all dead." she said, now starting to cry and grit her teeth angrily.

Kuhta reached down gently and patted her mane softly. "There there. Please, do not cry. I do not like to see people...or ponies, cry."

She looked up at him, a bit surprised. "Wait...you care?"

Kuhta nodded. "Yes. I um...I know how you feel...being dead is very unpleasant." he said, before he realized what he just said. She looked up at him suspiciously and and moved back from him.

"How did you know I was dead?", she asked warily.

Kuhta bit his lip and his eyes started shifting, until he remembered something.

"You have no pulse. I checked you to see if you had one and all I feel is cold skin, like dead mans."

Ruby widened her eyes and moved back to him, closer this time.

"Sorry...anyway...I just...I wanted you guys to come here and kill them...I thought that you would destroy them and I would thank you, and we would part ways. I just have to live alone...my curse means becoming friends would only be for the worst."

Kuhta tilted his head hearing this. "Curse? Why would anyone want to curse you?"

Ruby drooped her head. "I don't want to explain right now."

Kuhta sighed, and heard Zhdanov yawning.

"Well, I am very tired. I go to sleep now.", Zhdanov half yawned as he stood up and headed over to his sleeping bag, climbing into it. Applebloom followed him and nestled up beside him. Metelytsa was moving into his sleeping bag as well, and Klyshko was packing his notes up for the night.

Kuhta looked at Ruby. "Well, I know you think that it will be better for all if you keep these secrets. But if I can help you be happy for even a day, by being friend, I think I can take a little pain. After all, I die almost every day."

She looked at him incredulously.

"Really? You would do that?"

Kuhta nodded firmly. "I can tell you have had very bad life. Has being dead made finding friends hard?"

Ruby gave a over the top nod, complete with swishing mane. "Buckin A, it did!". She wanted to tell him now, but she knew that the others were still awake. She leaned in close to him and whispered, "Can we talk later?"

Kuhta nodded and started to get ready for bed. Soon, pretty much everyone had fallen asleep, and were resting up. But not everybody- or pony, had such a peaceful, secure standing that night.

**Corny? Awesome? Stupid?** **I don't know, this is giving me a mixed vibe. One thing I do know, if you are still reading this and haven't left, you probably liked it or hated it enough you want to leave a review. Don't be afraid! I don't censor review at all, so your voice will be heard. **

**Chapter 4 will be on it's way, with more ponies, more awkward friendships, and...more development or our villains? Yeah, that's all I can leak, so expect to see more of Greydolf Hoofler here shortly.**


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